Gabriel Holbrook Novels & Stories

I ignored the pain in my palms as my nails dug in. “I didn't call you a lowly woman. That's your assumption.” Gabriel shrugged his shoulders as he ran one hand through his brown hair. “What about my acting?” he asked, grinning at me. I laughed discordantly. One hand massaged my head, which felt dizzy. “So the attention you gave me was fake. Well, from here, I understand, and I won't accuse you of being the bad guy. Your acting is very natural and deserves an Oscar,” I replied with my voice caught in my throat.

Walking deeper into the house I see the staircase on my left painted black with a jade-green carpet running all the way to the top. There are comfortable sofas in a square form with a coffee table in the middle made of red oak wood, also there is a fireplace, and above it hangs a painting of Gabriel, who looks the same as he does now frozen at the age of 23, Blonde hair hazel green eyes, if that even is a color! He is built like a horse racing jock. He is from what I gather around 6 feet 3 if I had to compare him I would say that he reminds me of the true blood character Eric Northman.

THIRD PERSON'S POV The lodge doors opened at dawn, and Gabriel’s footsteps echoed against the stone hallway like a war drum. He moved with clipped precision, trailed by two warriors and a tall male beta with a tablet in hand. He wasn’t the same man who had touched Samantha’s cheek gently just two nights ago. This Gabriel was colder. Sharper. Alpha of Blood Moon. CEO of Vermillion Corp. Protector of his people. And now, somehow, responsible for a girl who didn’t know where she belonged.

“Show her.” My breath hitched. “Show me what?” I whispered. Gabriel hesitated. Just for a second. Then he lowered the bag he had been holding onto the concrete floor and unzipped it. A slim laptop slid out into his hands. He moved with a kind of careful focus adjusting his glasses up his nose. He opened the screen. I stood there, frozen, as his fingers flew across the keyboard. It wasn’t anything I could recognize. Lines of code. A dark interface. Small windows opening and closing too fast for my eyes to follow. Then a video file appeared.

He stands in the center of the living room, chest heaving, eyes scanning the perimeter. "The security system rebooted. There's a thirty-second gap in coverage. Someone could have—" "Gabriel." I cross the room. I put my hand over his on the gun. The metal is cold; his skin is burning. "There's no one here. Just us and a storm." His hand is shaking. The great Gabriel Hunt. The Debt Collector who destroys empires with a signature. Shaking from a power flicker.

His butler asked. Gabriel looks through the plane window and stares at the blue sky. "Bob, you know that my identity needs to remain a secret for now. I don't want to alarm my enemies. Also, I hate being surrounded by filth." He responded. Bob stared at the empty seat and replied, "I understand, Sir." Bob had been working with the Balkan family before Gabriel was born and every time he watched how grown his young master is now, plus all that he has accomplished as a young man, Bob can not help but feel proud.

“I’m meeting someone — a former colleague with connections. He may be able to get me information I haven’t been able to find on my own.” “What kind of colleague?” He dried the last plate and put it away and then looked at her. “Let’s take a walk.” The woods were gold and cool, the last of the autumn leaves coming down in slow spirals. They walked without hurrying, shoulder to shoulder, until the house was behind the tree line and there was nothing around them but the forest and the particular privacy of open air. “Before I found you,” Gabriel said, “I didn’t much want to be alive. Ten years of waiting, not knowing if the pull would ever lead anywhere. So I found the most dangerous work I cou

"I had a teacher who taught me how to eliminate targets. Nothing more." Gabriel offered a faint, deeply amused smile. "And an incredibly stubborn, prideful student, if my memory serves." Vincent groaned loudly from the chair, tilting his bruised head back. "If everyone in this room is completely finished reminiscing over the old days... I would profoundly appreciate someone untying these high-tensile cords." Matteo stepped forward, ignoring the plea entirely. "Why break your retirement to save him, Gabriel?" Gabriel’s lighthearted demeanor instantly vanished, his expression turning dangerously serious as he tapped his cane against the concrete. "Because Vincent Hale is the last living man on

“The arm is a declaration of war. Killing your asset. The photo is the threat. He’s identifying his targets. He’s saying he can reach them.” Dimitri finally moved, laying Luka’s arm back in the box with a grim finality. “He already has.” My phone vibrated in my pocket. An unknown number. The ice in my veins turned to fire. I swiped to answer, putting it on speaker. “Hello, brother.” Gabriel’s voice was a symphony of smug malice, tinged with that theatrical flair he’d always had. “Did you like my gift? I wasn’t sure if you’d prefer express or standard delivery. I went with express. Fresher that way.”

Gabriel, of course, was enjoying my discomfort. "I saw his Luna at the NorthForge Studios the other day," Gabriel explained. "He thought she was stalking him, but she shredded his ego and stormed off. And he still had the nerve to call it a 'territorial dispute'..." "Shut it," I growled, my wolf snapping behind my teeth. I'm just calculating which angle will make your other rib fracture, Gabriel. "Hey, the Blackwoods own a wing of St. Mary’s," Gabriel said to Oliver, trying to pivot. "Seb could help you track down that mystery female."